


Sleep tight, Princess

by anticipatedepiphany



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: 5x13 AU, And confronts Clarke about them, Bellamy knows about the radio calls, F/M, My interpretation of the missing scene Jason robbed us of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 07:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16114145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticipatedepiphany/pseuds/anticipatedepiphany
Summary: Blue-jay optics contemplated Bellamy’s fracturing of silence, not wishing to unwaver from his own chestnut glosses as their colour exposed from the synthetic light.“Madi told me that you called me, every single day. For the six years you were alone.”





	Sleep tight, Princess

Clarke wondered if such a silence had ever pondered within a room containing so many lives before now.

Whether there was ever another time in existence where the remains of the human race forced themselves into the equivalent of oblivion in righteousness as they waited for habitat to develop from the ashes of a world that once was, she could not be sure.

To her knowledge, it was merely her and one other that still lingered in consciousness, unaware of the fellow blonde and her beau that resided the opposite side of the ship, facading their appearance for a final pledge to the other half of their soul to reside in tranquility whilst the others were in their slumber.

She offered the male the briefest of tugged lips at the final interaction between himself and his sister - wishing to offer her consolidation with an expression that did not form a labial of overwhelming sympathy. The two of them did not function in such a manner, especially when she did not wish to presume that Bellamy had forgiven her. He may have no longer held any tendrils of frustration towards her, thanks to whatever Madi must have awkwardly flustered in attempt to sort things for her maternal figure, but that did not mean that he had truly fulfilled genuine forgiveness for her actions.

“Bellamy—“ 

“Clarke—“

The attempted three syllables uttered were flattened by a firmer singular in a confidence pretence. 

In reality, his heart was budding at the same unrhythmic pace as her own.

Blue-jay optics contemplated Bellamy’s fracturing of silence, not wishing to unwaver from his own chestnut glosses as their colour exposed from the synthetic light.

“Madi told me that you called me, every single day. For the six years you were alone.”

The juncture of the man’s predicament on her seemed incredibly indisputable to Clarke now. Of course Madi had used a confessional Clarke had firmly imposed to the child never to utter to another, especially Bellamy — the errors of youth were still firmly latched to the soul of the adolescent, regardless of the Commander her people fathomed her as.

The silence that reconstituted amongst the two was enough clarification to Bellamy that Madi’s words contained pure veracity, encouraging the male to continue. 

“Me. Not Raven, not Murphy, not Harper, not Monty - just me, Clarke. Why just me?”

Reticence persisted on her behalf. It was almost ironic how one could formulate so many possible circumstances for a moment, yet fail to perform any when the judgement day for the situation fell upon you. Many times, within the dusk of the toxins that allowed only she and a child to reside amongst the earth, Clarke Griffin had cogitated her thoughts to spirals of imagination rare for a woman of such logic. To a reality constellations away where she would disclose the radio calls and her true sentiment towards the freckled leader who had reigned his way into her heart throughout their year of acquaintance. 

Alas, for once, Clarke Griffin appointed cowardice to configure her reaction, her poise remaining frozen as consternation slithered through her throat and prevented explanations from seeping through lips that had quivered for him so many times already - in the evenings where she sobbed, even yearned for his safe return. 

The blonde’s concentration had been so consumed in the sheltering of her heart that the droplets cascading down her cheeks only flared her focus when they were ushered away by the succouring palm that glided down the trace of her visage, such a gesture startling the two of them before the male quickly cleared his throat an detached the contact of his skin from hers. 

“You don’t have to answer now. In fact, I’ll give you a few years.”

Clarke actually managed to assemble a smile at that, albeit an exhausted one as she rested her body against the cryo pod, contemplating the foreign look within those brown eyes and engulfing the final sight her own globes were to see before lids shielded them from any further witnessing. 

Although, there was no way the blonde’s ears could miss the final words Bellamy offered as the technological sleep pulled her under.

“Sleep tight, Princess.”


End file.
